


Make Somebody Love Me

by Anra7777



Series: Do You Want To? [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Abuse of Powers, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Demyx discovers kinks he didn't even know he had, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Feelings? What feelings?, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mostly due to alcohol, but otherwise mostly consenting, no relationships - Freeform, there are a few dubious spots however
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 07:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19883866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anra7777/pseuds/Anra7777
Summary: Xigbar and Luxord want to play strip poker.Demyx does not.The two trick him into accepting a different sort of wager.





	Make Somebody Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I was getting strong “Do You Want To” by Franz Ferdinand vibes every time I thought about writing this story. It seems an oddly appropriate song.
> 
> This story is not part of the “Demyx Has Feelings” verse. In fact, there are no bona fide relationships in this fic, just lustfulness. 
> 
> I am not an expert on poker, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. 
> 
> Shoutout to NaraMori. Thanks for agreeing to read this fic when I was half way through and giving it some feedback as well as a “thumbs up.” *snicker* Come back when you’ve read the fic to get this joke. I’ll wait. Anyway, I’m Beta-ing her story “Obliviously,” so go read it as well as her other fic, “Illuminate the Dark,” if you have any interest in AkuRoku. ╮(╯▽╰)╭ They’re really good! I absolutely adore what she’s done with Demyx in the current chapters of “Illuminate.”

Make Somebody Love Me

Demyx did not want to play poker. For one thing, he was bad at it. For another, he didn’t trust the looks Luxord and Xigbar were giving him when they suggested playing. It wasn’t their faces that were giving him warning signals—no, they had perfectly good poker faces on already. It was the gleam in their three eyes that suggested to Demyx that there was more to the offer than met the eye. 

“What are the stakes we’d be playing with?” He ventured cautiously.

“Clothes.” The corner of Xigbar’s lips twitched, as he suppressed a smirk.

“In the version we plan on playing tonight, the person with the lowest hand removes a piece of clothing.” Luxord smoothly followed. 

Demyx slowly shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not interested.” He turned and started to walk away with as much dignity as possible, his inner coward urging him to run, run, run away.

“Hey, wait.” Xigbar suddenly panicked. “We can always change the stakes.” He looked to Luxord for agreement.

“Perhaps, the loser takes a shot instead?” Luxord suggested.

Demyx stopped. That was still disadvantageous for Demyx—both Xigbar and Luxord could drink most of the Organization under the table, while he was the lightest weight member when it came to drinking. Even Zexion was able to hold his liquor better. Inexplicably, water powers did not equate to “drinking like a fish.” Still, he was touched that they wanted him to play enough to change the stakes for him. He wavered between continuing running away or turning around. 

“How ‘bout this? If you manage to outlast me, I’ll tell you a secret about me.” Xigbar coaxed. Luxord nodded, agreeing to the new condition. Demyx’s inability to hold his drink was notorious among the Organization—it was a safe bet. Besides, if he was thinking what Xigbar was thinking, they wouldn’t need to have the wager be alcohol for long.

Tempted by the thought of having one of Xigbar’s or Luxord’s secrets with which to blackmail them into doing missions for him, Demyx was finally swayed. 

“Ooookay.” He agreed. “Where will we play?”

“I would imagine that all of our rooms would be far too messy. Perhaps the training center would be empty at this time.” Luxord suggested, rightfully guessing the state of Xigbar’s and Demyx’s rooms. 

“The training room?” Demyx was startled, warning signs blaring back up again. “Why not the Grey Area?” 

“Do you really wish to risk the other members seeing you drunk?” Luxord raised an eyebrow. Last time Demyx had gotten drunk, he had giggled and flirted with everyone. _Everyone_. Demyx had been lucky that the only member in a bad mood that day was Larxene. Rather than being turned into a Dusk, or being clobbered to death (via claymore, lance, or Keyblade), he simply suffered being electrocuted a few times. Once he was sober, he swore up and down that he hadn’t been flirting, that he had merely been trying to be friendly. No one believed him. (“Demyx, you insisted we take off our coats and shirts and that you’d teach me to tango. How, exactly, was that _simply being friendly_?!” -Anonymous) 

“Good point.” Demyx deflated. It’s not like he did anything _wrong_ when he was drunk, but he didn’t like the idea of getting electrocuted again. 

“Let’s get the table from my room.” Luxord created a portal, and the two other Nobodies stepped through. The inside of Luxord’s room was filled to the brim with foldable tables of various sizes, various decks of cards—some open and strewn about carelessly, props for magic tricks, and a cage holding a white bunny. Demyx immediately got distracted by the various items around the room, as he gravitated toward the rabbit. 

“Demyx, stay focused,” Xigbar groused, as Luxord picked out the table he wanted and the two men started to pick it up. 

“Awww,” Demyx whined, as he moved back to help. “What’s Mr. or Ms. Bunny’s name?” He asked, picking up the table too.

“Bun-Bun,” was the dry reply, giving no indication of the rabbit’s gender. 

“Bun-Bun?” Xigbar snorted in laughter. 

“Can I visit Bun-Bun sometime?” Demyx asked, as they were already half way through the portal. 

“Of course.” Luxord’s face gave no sign of his inward smirk. Xigbar scowled, having no similar fluffy menace to tempt Demyx to visit his room. 

“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in seeing my gun collection… or my _gun_ collection.” Xigbar offered, half wistfully, half suggestively. He grunted as Luxord “accidentally” dropped the table on his foot, mouthing “Oopsie-Daisy” in mockery of the sharpshooter. 

“Not really,” Demyx refused lightly, either not having understood the innuendo, or just pretending not to have. Demyx did a pretty good job of making himself seem dumber than he actually was: in making himself seem harmless. How far the deception ran, possibly even Demyx himself didn’t know. 

They finished setting up the table and Luxord produced a deck of cards from a pocket. Xigbar noted that the deck looked used. He wondered if it already had any surprises in it. Good.

“Wait, what about chairs?” Demyx asked. 

“We’ll take some from the dining hall as we ransack the alcohol cabinet.” Xigbar grinned. A short trip later and they were back, plus three chairs, three shot glasses, and a bottle of cheap vodka. 

“Will that be enough?” Demyx eyed the bottle with a frown.

“Eh, we can always get more if we need it.” The unspoken thread of “we won’t be needing it,” going unnoticed by Demyx, but not Luxord. The barest of leers crossed the platinum blond’s face.

They sat down equidistant from each other. One round later, and Demyx lost. He properly poured a shot, but sipped it slowly, grimacing at the taste. 

Xigbar raised an eyebrow, “We don’t have all night, Demyx.” 

“Shut up. If I have to drink something that tastes gross, I’m going to drink in such a way that I don’t gag all over the place.” They waited for the few minutes it took for him to get through the shot.

Round two was Xigbar’s loss, and he knocked the shot back quickly. He gave a slight cough at the end, thumped his chest, and exclaimed, “Now, that’s how you drink vodka!” At this point, Demyx’s vision was just starting to become slightly blurry. 

Round three was Demyx’s loss again. This time he drank the shot a little more quickly. Once it was down, he blinked, and a small giggle slipped past. Luxord and Xigbar exchanged glances. 

“Not sure how many more rounds you can afford to lose, Dem.” Xigbar drawled. “You know, we can always change the wager.” Best to plant the suggestion _now_. They wanted him drunk, but not _too_ drunk. 

“Nah, I can keep going.” Demyx propped his chin up on one knee, and kicked a table leg with the other. Luxord gave him an annoyed look.

Round four was another loss for Demyx. Round five and it was clear Demyx was drunk. For one thing, he couldn’t tell whether he’d won or lost when he had a straight flush and Xigbar and Luxord had a two pair and three of a kind respectively. For another, he was definitely making with the sexy eyes at both of them. 

“You lost this round, Dem.” Xigbar fibbed with a straight face. Demyx made to pour himself another shot, but Xigbar moved the vodka away. “Ah-ah-ah. Any more and you won’t be able to continue playing. How about we change the wager now, hm?” Demyx gave him a sexy pout. 

“Fine,” he whined (in not a sexy voice), “What doo you ha-have in… what?” He slurred. 

“Perhaps the wager should be that the winner of the round is allowed to kiss the loser.” Luxord prompted.

“Kiss-kissing? Fiiiiine.” Demyx nodded sloppily. It was just kissing. He could stand to lose a few kisses if the cards kept working against him. He would keep playing until Luxord or Xigbar gave up so he could get those… get those… uh? Ooo, cards. 

“Now, since I was the ‘winner’ of this round—” Xigbar started.

“No, you weren’t. I had the better hand.” Luxord quickly interrupted. Clearly, Xigbar was ready to “take a mile” with his lies since Demyx had already “given an inch” in believing him. Xigbar gave a sigh, then waved his hand in tacit surrender.

“Come here, Demyx.” The platinum blond beckoned. Demyx noisily got up from his seat and tripsied over, nearly falling onto Luxord’s lap instead of the graceful sinking down he’d undoubtedly imagined. The dirty blond had his feet out jutted sideways away from Xigbar, with his torso twisted toward the man beneath him.

Luxord took a firm hold of Demyx’s chin and planted the most sensual kiss he could muster. Demyx quickly melted under the kiss and he easily let Luxord’s tongue enter and explore his mouth. He gave a small moan as Luxord licked and stroked in all the right places. When Luxord finally broke the kiss, he gasped for breath, the first sparks of arousal helping to leave him more winded from the kiss than he should be. 

Demyx stumbled back to his seat, grateful for the long coat that kept little Demyx’s burgeoning interest a secret. 

Xigbar’s face was twisted in an interesting expression: he was certainly grinning in a dazed leer, but he was also grimacing in disgruntlement. How he managed to convey both opposing emotions at once made Demyx’s head ache. 

Round six, and Xigbar was the winner, and Demyx was once again the loser. 

“Come here, Blondie,” the Freeshooter crooned. Luxord rolled his eyes at the nickname, clearly not amused.

Demyx jerked from the light doze he’d fallen into, and headed for Xigbar. This time he managed to plop into the other man’s lap with a little more finesse. Again, he was seated sideways, away from the older blond, with his torso twisted. 

Xigbar grabbed the back of Demyx’s neck and forcefully pulled the drunk blond into his lips. Where Luxord had explored, Xigbar devoured. He left no quarter free from his plundering. Demyx felt helpless to stop the onslaught. All he could do was hang on to Xigbar’s shoulders and hope he’d have brain cells when it was all over. Eventually, he did start pushing Xigbar back, as the position was leaving his nose blocked and he couldn’t breathe. Xigbar finally retreated with a smug, satisfied grin. Demyx could barely wobble back with legs of jelly. Little Demyx was definitely happy with this type of wager. 

Round seven and Xigbar was once again the winner. Luxord looked frustrated, as though he hadn't expected this outcome. Demyx had lost again.

“Are the two… four?... of you cheating?” He suspiciously accused. “Or do the cards just hate me?” He looked a little teary eyed. He placed his arms on the table and buried his head in his arms, before letting his eyes peek out from above his arms.

“Of course we aren’t cheating.” Xigbar shifted uncomfortably, his eye skittering across Demyx’s face before firmly glaring at the cards in his hand. 

“Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Luck’s like that. You can’t win them all.” Luxord tacitly neither confirmed nor denied Demyx’s accusation. 

Demyx fully buried his head back in his arms for a moment, before sitting back up. 

“Well, how ‘bout you come over here and let me give you a kiss,” Xigbar persuaded. 

Demyx got up and moved back over to Xigbar’s seat, sitting once more in the older man’s lap, although this time, on a whim, he decided to face his body toward Luxord. He waited patiently for the kiss, but was surprised when Xigbar started unzipping his coat instead. 

“What are you doing?” He clutched his coat’s zipper below where it was open, preventing Xigbar’s movement. It wouldn’t do to have his coat removed and reveal his slight arousal. 

“Well, we never specified _where_ the winner could kiss, and I’m thinkin’ your neck and shoulder look mighty fine.” Xigbar released the zipper pull he’d been fondling and, placing his hand on said shoulder, stroked Demyx’s clavicle firmly with his gloved thumb. Demyx shivered at the sensuous feel of the leather against his bare skin. Wearing a low cut tank top had truly been an excel, exce—good idea on his part.

Continuing his stroking, Xigbar leaned forward and started nibbling and sucking on the other side of Demyx’s neck. The dirty blond gasped and arched at the touch, the twin sensations on the sensitive parts of his body finally bringing his dick to full attention. He unconsciously squirmed in frustration, which, after a couple of minutes, ended up causing him to fall off Xigbar’s lap. His arm hit the table causing him to give a pained, “ow,” before his butt smacked the unforgiving concrete of the floor, eliciting a loud “nngh!” as, for a brief nanosecond, he saw stars. Thankfully for his dignity, the pain caused little Demyx to shrink and behave. 

He stood up and rubbing his butt with his injured arm and rubbing his injured arm with his uninjured one, he shambled back to his seat. He didn’t seem to notice that his coat was still partially unzipped, although perhaps he didn’t care. 

Round eight saw Luxord’s win. Demyx didn’t even bother to try to figure out whether he was the loser or not, he simply started heading for the other blond. Whether he was merely resigned to losing or eager for the kisses, was impossible to tell. 

Before Demyx could sit down, however, Luxord stopped him with a “wait” and a hand, palm out. 

“Demyx, you should sit facing me with your legs on either side. That way you’re less likely to fall. You should remove your coat first to make sitting that way easier,” Luxord explained, as though the coat didn’t give them plenty of room to maneuver. Xigbar rolled his eye at the half truth, half lie, before waiting eagerly for the blond to strip. 

Luxord had seen quite clearly the arousal in Demyx’s expression from Xigbar’s ministrations. He hoped he’d be able to rile up the younger man even further. 

Demyx unthinkingly did as he was told, tossing his coat a reasonable distance from the table. For good measure, he removed his gloves and tossed them onto the coat. Then, without needing further prompting, but looking slightly embarrassed, he straddled the Gambler’s lap. Luxord grabbed Demyx’s abused butt and used it to pull him closer, while getting a decent grope. Demyx leaned back, uncomfortable being so close so suddenly to another person without a way to escape easily. He would have shimmied his butt back too, as his clothed groin was lightly pressed against Luxord’s, but Luxord’s still kneading hands prevented his movement. 

Once it seemed like Demyx’s mini revolt was over, although he could have just been distracted by the warm hardness he felt coming from Luxord’s pants, Luxord let go of Demyx’s butt, and moved his hands to Demyx’s sides, easily sweeping under the tank top’s meager resistance to pull the fabric up and expose Demyx’s chest. He leaned forward and used his left hand on Demyx’s back to push him towards him, and started lapping at one dusky nipple. With his right, he started rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Demyx looked down at the platinum blond head attached to his chest. Unfortunately for Luxord, Demyx’s nipples really weren’t sensitive. He was, however, being unpleasantly tickled by Luxord’s beard. He tried fidgeting away from the offending facial hair, and Luxord looked up to see Demyx’s slightly bored, slightly miserable expression. Luxord tried lightly biting down on the nipple between his lips, which earned him a thwack on the head and a “that hurts!” Frustrated, he started kissing Demyx’s chest area instead. 

While Demyx still didn’t like the unintentional tickling, this method did give better results. He felt himself squirm again as his cock perked back up, especially once Luxord started kissing him lower. They were too close together for Luxord to get very far, and Demyx started to lean farther back in an effort to give Luxord better access. Before he could actually fall over, he found arms supporting him, preventing him from knocking his head on the table or falling and hitting the floor. He looked up to see Xigbar watching them, watching _him_ , and he moaned at the thought of the sluttish picture he must make. Luxord continued kissing downward, before concentrating on Demyx’s stomach area. Having a mouth be so close and yet so far to where he needed it, was torture to Demyx. When Luxord eventually moved back and sat up from kissing around Demyx’s stomach, Xigbar was finally able to see what Luxord had already been able to feel: just how much Demyx was enjoying this. 

Demyx lay sprawled across Luxord’s lap and Xigbar’s arms, alcohol and hormones making him unusually unashamed of his heaving, gleaming with saliva, nearly naked chest, his legs spread around Luxord’s waist, and his straining pants. He could have stayed like this all night, knowing that they were _watching_ him, that they were enjoying the way he looked at this moment. 

But the moment didn’t last. Luxord caressed Demyx’s hip with one hand and purred, “I think those are enough kisses for now. We should continue the game.” Demyx tried to stifle a noise of protest, but it still came out. One gloved finger of the caressing hand dipped under his pants and underwear, and drew barely there circles on the skin of his hip, causing Demyx’s breath to hitch in anticipation. “Unless, of course, you’re willing to concede the game?” Demyx groaned in annoyance as he remembered the bet that had persuaded him to play in the first place. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from Luxord’s lap, relying heavily on Xigbar’s helping grasp to keep himself from hitting the ground. He somehow got back to his own seat, as muddle headed as he felt, and didn’t even bother pulling his shirt back down, much less put his coat back on. 

Round nine, and Demyx wondered whether he was being tested. From what little he could remember of the rules of poker with his drunken brain, he _thought_ he had a surefire winning hand. Without too much guilt, and with as calm a face as he could manage, he decided to exchange his cards, giving himself, or so he hoped, a trash hand. Both Luxord and Xigbar’s lips twitched madly when he set down the cards to exchange. 

He did indeed get a trash hand. Xigbar and Luxord barely tied, each having an identical two pairs, with only Luxord’s fifth card being a ten, while Xigbar’s was a two. Xigbar swore out loud, as Demyx stood up to make his way to Luxord’s side. 

Demyx hovered, a little unsure of how he was supposed to sit this time. Luxord made the decision for him as he used Demyx’s hips to pull him a little closer. He elegantly removed his gloves, setting them gently on the table, before reaching over and using his quicksilver fingers to pop open the button of Demyx’s pants. Demyx’s eyes grew hooded as his cheeks flushed. Luxord slowly pulled the zipper down, teasing Demyx with a light brush of the back of his fingers to the Nocturne’s cock. Demyx gave a small whimper as Luxord’s hands left him completely once the zipper was fully down. Luxord stood up, and in a move that must have utilized Luxord’s time powers, Demyx found himself inexplicably already pushed into the Gambler’s chair, pants and underwear around his ankles, boots and socks dumped near his coat and gloves. He blinked in confusion, unsure whether he’d blacked out or whether Luxord had used his mojo on him. Xigbar snickered at Demyx’s questioning expression, but didn’t feel the need to enlighten him. 

Demyx suddenly felt very exposed, and was torn between wanting to push his knees together and hunch over in embarrassment, or spreading his legs wider and putting himself on display. In the time it took him to decide, Luxord had dragged over Demyx’s coat as a makeshift pillow, and was kneeling in front of Demyx. He moved Demyx’s feet out of the blond’s pants and underwear, leaving him wearing only his scrunched up shirt. He pushed Demyx’s knees apart, settling in between them, and began kissing up one of Demyx’s thighs. Demyx leaned back and mostly closed his eyes, looking down at Luxord through the remaining slits. Finally, Luxord reached the area where leg met groin, but rather than continue inward, he switched to the opposite knee and repeated his slow inward seeking kisses. 

Demyx had half a mind to give the tease another whack, as he whined in grievance. He opened his eyes a trifle more and looked toward Xigbar, hoping for some sympathy. Instead he saw the salt and pepper haired man sitting backwards in his chair and giving him a heated stare. Demyx gave a groan and his cock twitched, spurting a little bit of precum. 

Xigbar noticed and grinned. “Oh, dear. We have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, do we? Or are you just happy to see me?” 

“No way!” Demyx turned his head in protest and tried willing the deep blush away. 

“Bingo, huh. Well, I’m always available if you ever want to jack off in front of me.” Even with his head turned, Demyx _knew_ Xigbar must have been gesturing with his hands and giving a full bodied smirk. Still, Demyx’s hips jerked once and his dick bobbed at the offer.

Luxord, probably annoyed by the lack of Demyx’s attention, decided at this moment to engulf the head of Demyx’s cock with his mouth. Demyx’s eyes slammed shut as he concentrated on the sensations coming from below. Knowing Xigbar was watching made his skin prickle with heat, as he longed to be touched by both men at once. 

Luxord seemed to know what he was doing as he stroked Demyx’s cock with his hand as he swirled his tongue around the head. His other hand held Demyx’s hip steady, to prevent the dirty blond from thrusting. As Demyx moaned, he released the cock in his mouth and starting pressing wet, open kisses up and down Demyx’s hard shaft. 

“Luuuuxooord, stop teasing me.” Demyx begged as he glared vaguely downwards. Luxord rubbed Demyx’s inner thigh with one hand as he moved away enough to speak.

“I can make your orgasm last what feels like an eternity, until you’re imploring me to make it stop. Do you concede?” 

“Uh?” was Demyx’s witty reply. 

“The game. Do you concede?” 

“...If I don’t concede, will you still give me that eternity orgasm?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Now Luxord was getting up, and Demyx was deeply regretting not conceding immediately. He opened his mouth to concede, but Xigbar interrupted, almost as if to prevent Demyx’s words.

“Okay, onto the next round then.” He picked up the deck in front of Demyx and moved it over to Luxord, who’d taken Demyx’s old seat. Both men completely ignored the fact that Demyx was almost completely naked and hard as hell. Xigbar gave Luxord a look filled with significance, the possible meanings of which were lost to Demyx. 

Round ten and Demyx couldn’t have made sense of the cards in front of him if he tried. He didn’t bother exchanging anything and just laid his cards out when the time came. 

Xigbar sauntered over with a confidant smirk, as Demyx just zoned out in his seat. Xigbar fisted the back of the dirty blond’s mullet and gave him a hard kiss before letting go and sinking to his knees in front of the dazed Demyx. 

At some unknown point, Xigbar had already removed his gloves, so it was warm, calloused fingers that touched his dick, rather than the smooth leather he’d almost been expecting. Xigbar used those fingers to line up Demyx’s dick with his mouth, before slowly deepthroating him. Demyx unconsciously started to buck his hips at the feel of the wet warmth on his cock, but Xigbar’s left arm across his stomach barred him from moving. Demyx muttered a “sorry” and did his best not to move from then on. He was rewarded for his apology with what felt like a finger circling his entrance. He looked down in confusion, as with the way his butt was planted on the seat, there shouldn’t be any shenanigans happening around his hole. He didn’t see anything suspicious, other than the fact that Xigbar’s right hand was no longer around his cock. He felt the finger leave before Xigbar started fumbling blindly in his pocket, producing a bottle of lube, all the while his mouth and throat were still working on Demyx’s dick. 

Xigbar used his thumb to open the bottle, before his hand disappeared once more from Demyx’s line of sight. A minute later, and Demyx heard the snap of the bottle closing. He put his hand back in his pocket. The finger returned, this time slick with the lube. The finger started dipping into him, then circling his rim, before repeating the process, teasing him with its “will I or won’t I enter completely?” 

It suddenly occurred to Demyx, that perhaps Xigbar was the reason over the years he occasionally felt a hand grope his butt, but when he’d turned around no one was there. It had disturbed and frightened him whenever it happened, but now that he knew who it was… suddenly the idea of getting randomly felt up in public became a slight turn on. He wondered if Xigbar would be willing to do more than just touch his butt in an empty hallway. 

As Xigbar’s finger entered completely, he came, with the fantasy of being secretly fingered by Xigbar during a meeting in front of everyone resounding in his head. 

Xigbar’s finger stayed inside as he swallowed Demyx’s release. Even as he stood up, and sealed Demyx’s mouth with his and pushed the last remains of cum into Demyx’s mouth, to the dirty blonde’s immense disgust, the finger stayed. Once Xigbar pulled away, it was obvious that Demyx had every intention of spitting the cum out immediately. Xigbar placed his left hand over Demyx’s mouth and cheerfully told Demyx to swallow. Demyx glared, but since it was clear Xigbar wasn’t going to let him refuse, he obediently ingested the cum. Besides, what if his refusal caused Xigbar to remove his finger? He rather _liked_ Xigbar’s finger remaining where it was. It felt somewhat uncomfortable, but it was a good discomfort. After he swallowed, the finger lightly massaged his walls in reward, causing him to give a small shiver. Give him a few minutes, and the sensation alone would likely renew his arousal. 

Xigbar reached down and picked up the bottle of lube with his left hand, stuffing it into his left side pocket as he strolled back to his chair. Demyx eyed his own pants and underwear, wondering if he should put them back on, wondering if Luxord would see anything weird if he were to stand up, wondering if Xigbar’s finger would move with his body, or stay on the chair, visually disconcertingly dismembered. 

Now that he’d released and calmed down, he was not so enthusiastic about the idea of being naked or of Luxord knowing what Xigbar’s finger was up to, even if he still wanted that finger to keep doing what it was doing. 

First, he tugged down his shirt. He had no clue how it had stayed up all this time anyway, denying the laws of gravity… oh. Never mind. 

Next, he toed his briefs, bringing them within his range of his hand, so long as he bent over. As he started to pick them up, he felt the finger inside him give a brief wiggle. He paused, not daring to look over at the sharpshooter, but uncertain what the wiggle meant. Still, he couldn’t stay like that, so he placed his feet into the briefs. He felt the finger start to leave and he immediately clenched. He flushed at Xigbar’s chuckle and Luxord’s “What’s so amusing?” but determinedly continued pulling his briefs up. He stood up enough to get the briefs on, being careful not to brush the back of his butt as the finger decided to remain. 

Still not looking up, he gripped his pants firmly and pulled them on. In the end, he decided against zipping or buttoning them, as he didn’t want to risk tormenting himself if he became aroused again. Instead, he placed his coat strategically over his lap. 

He settled his bare arms on the table edge, _still_ too flustered to look at his fellow table mates, and waited to receive the next hand. In his peripheral vision, he noticed that Xigbar had only his left arm out, his right still firmly in his pocket. His body language seemed completely casual, as if he hadn’t decided to start slowly pumping his finger in and out of Demyx’s canal. Demyx fidgeted, as the titillation drove his cock to firm back up slightly.

“Well,” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again. “Well, are you going to deal the next hand?” Luxord raised an eyebrow, which Demyx didn’t see, but dutifully distributed the cards. 

“Why aren’t you using your right hand?” The goateed man questioned Xigbar.

“My hand’s dirty. Thought you wouldn’t appreciate my dirtying the cards.” Xigbar grunted. Demyx’s breathing sped up a little, pondering whether Luxord would believe him. Well, it _was_ true, even if not the whole truth. 

Demyx looked down at his cards. This was a winning hand, right? The royal flush? He found it a little suspicious how he’d been getting mostly trash hands, with the occasional super good hand. He thought. He wasn’t sure he quite remembered. Well, even if Luxord and/or Xigbar were cheating, Demyx highly doubted they’d admit it. Wait, he seemed to have already questioned them on this… 

Before they could show their hands, Xigbar quickly said, “I fold.” That was enough to bring the astonished gazes of both Luxord and Demyx to bear on him.

“That is not in the rules of this game.” Luxord sneered. “You _can’t_ fold.” 

“As if. I did.” Xigbar leaned and tipped the chair back. “So, which one of you’s going to ‘kiss’ me.” He looked toward Demyx in amusement, as though he knew _exactly_ which blond had the winning hand. He unzipped his coat and pulled it open, but left it on and hanging off his shoulders. As he started unzipping his pants, Demyx snapped his head back to his cards. He didn’t know how many more times he could blush before he’d need to start worrying about permanent damage. (That’s not how blushing works…) “Well?” The long haired man prompted. 

Demyx saw, with a sinking feeling, that Luxord had a trash hand. He rose, clutching his coat in front of him, 

“Um, why are you unzipping, if you’re expecting only a ‘kiss?’” Demyx valiantly tried to fend off the inevitable. Xigbar gave him an unimpressed look, as he shoved in his finger viciously. It only lasted a moment, before Xigbar resumed his more gentle motions, but it was enough to have Demyx clutching the table as he tried to prevent himself from fully collapsing. 

“Demyx, are you okay?” Luxord asked, concerned.

“I’m fine. I tripped.” 

“Weeeell,” Xigbar drawled. “We _did_ suck you off. It’s only fair that you return the favor.” Demyx felt as though there was something very wrong with that logic, as reasonable as it sounded, but he couldn’t place his finger on what. Or Xigbar’s finger. He was starting to regret his hormones’ insistence on keeping it. After that stunt, Demyx felt tempted to find a private corner, rip the finger out of him, and break it. But how on Never Was would he explain the need to leave to Luxord? Especially without conceding the game?

Frustrated, and resigned, he dropped in front of Xigbar. He’d never given a blowjob before, at least, not that he could remember. Or received one before today. At least he wasn’t alone in having no memories of his Somebody’s life, the other lower numbered Nobodies being just as clueless. He’d been working under the assumption that he was probably a virgin, so he’d decided to wait until he had his heart back to experience sex, not wanting to miss out on the emotional component of the act. _That_ idea was now out the window. Feeling intimidated by the hard cock before him, he reflected and felt a little bitter, but not regretful. He could admit to himself that he very much wanted something like this to happen again. Well, not being forced to give a blowjob, per se. But the rest of it.

Xigbar’s boot nudged him in impatience, and he tentatively reached out and took the cock into his hand. He leaned forward to give an experimental lick to the head, immediately grimacing at the taste, but soldiered on. He mouthed at the head and started stroking the rest of the shaft with his hand. 

Xigbar apparently wasn’t too happy with Demyx’s unskilled technique, as after a few minutes he grabbed Demyx’s mullet and forced the blond’s head further down onto his cock. Demyx choked, and tried to push away, but the hand was unrelenting. Thankfully, Xigbar’s thrusts into his mouth were slow and small, allowing Demyx some measure to breathe and some hope that he might get used to this.

Down below, Xigbar’s finger left Demyx briefly, before returning with a second slick finger. Demyx’s back straightened, as Xigbar didn’t give him enough time to get used to the new intrusion before stretching him, and the mild discomfort he’d felt at one finger was now pain. He forced his body to relax, which helped, but he really wasn’t enjoying himself now. 

He hit Xigbar’s leg, trying to get his attention. Xigbar pulled Demyx’s head off of him, and Demyx looked toward Xigbar’s pocket, muttering, “Hurts,” in a voice he hoped would be loud enough for Xigbar to hear, but soft enough that Luxord wouldn’t even know he’d spoken. The fingers immediately retreated, returning to circling his entrance instead, as Xigbar pulled him back to his erection. It was nice to know Xigbar wasn’t completely heartless. 

Xigbar leaned over to whisper in Demyx’s ear, letting his tough guy image take a small beating: “Hit my leg again if I’m really doing something you don’t like.” Demyx hummed in agreement, which if Xigbar’s cock’s twitching was any indication, the one eyed man enjoyed. He tried humming again, and felt the cock in his mouth twitch even more violently. Xigbar groaned, his fingers stopping all movement on Demyx’s behind, as he came. 

Demyx was forced to receive the cum, Xigbar’s hand not having let go. He wasn’t able to stop most of it from going down his throat, and felt a little sick at the idea of it in his stomach. When Xigbar finally released him, he spat out what he could onto the floor, then got up and fumbled for the vodka and his glass, pouring half a shot into the glass before downing it. He wiped his mouth with his hand vigorously, before he felt clean enough to slump back into his seat. 

“Aw, come on, I’m not that gross. You’re breaking my heart.” Xigbar fussed exaggeratedly. Belying Xigbar’s wounded words, those (wonderful) (terrible) fingers resumed their circling, dipping in and out as they had much earlier, when there was just one. 

Demyx refused to reply. Rubbing his mouth some more, he turned to Luxord and said, “Let’s continue,” in a grim voice. He had the feeling he was going to win the next round, and Luxord was going to be the loser. Still, at this point, he refused to give up. 

Round twelve went exactly as he predicted. He had _another_ royal flush (what were the odds of that?), and Luxord had the losing hand. 

One blowjob, or two blowjobs, what was the big difference? He trudged over to the platinum blond, who was in the process of removing his coat while standing.

“Demyx, I’d be fine with a handjob from you, if you remove your shirt and let me paint your chest.” After draping the coat on the back of his chair, he sat back down and beckoned Demyx to straddle his lap once more. 

Much preferring this suggested alternative, Demyx tossed his shirt out of the way, and settled down. With shaking hands he undid Luxord’s pants, blushing a bit as Luxord palmed him through his own open pants and underwear. He closed his eyes for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to roll into Luxord’s palm, or buck down on the fingers that were, this time, gently working him open. 

Demyx pulled Luxord’s underwear out of the way, and started fondling the platinum blond’s cock. In revenge for the teasing from earlier, he kept his touches light and quick. Rather than being irked, Luxord seemed amused by Demyx’s ploy. His own touches on Demyx’s cock through his underwear were just as superficial, a brush here, a brief palm pressure there. Although, frankly, at the moment that was pretty much all Demyx could handle. If Luxord were to try to seriously get him off, he’d probably explode or have a meltdown from an overload of sensation. 

Luxord began to grind his erection into Demyx’s hands, his actions and his lust filled stare silently demanding Demyx do more. So he did. It felt a little awkward trying to tug on someone else’s cock the same way he enjoyed touching his own, but he did his best, giving long strokes and rubbing at the glans, and it wasn’t too long before Luxord shuddered and released. He’d started to close his eyes, but quickly opened them again in order to guide the direction of his release over Demyx’s chest. 

Demyx may not have liked having cum in his mouth, or anywhere near his mouth for that matter, but he shivered slightly as he found the visual impact and slightly ticklish feeling of the white liquid falling on his chest and stomach arousing. That, coupled with the massaging fingers still inside him, caused him briefly to jut his hips upwards as he felt an intense desire to come right then and there. Alas, his body wasn’t quite in the mood yet, and he almost wanted to demand that Luxord come again, in the hopes that the extra stimulation would be enough. 

Suddenly exhausted from the mental and physical ups and downs he’d gone through the last few hours and from the additional alcohol finally hitting his bloodstream, he swayed as he got up off of Luxord’s lap, and stumbled back to his chair, already half asleep. As soon as he sat down, he was out.

***

Demyx awoke to the sound of water running and someone calling his name. He blearily opened his eyes to find himself still half dressed, with Luxord’s cum now dry on his chest and his insides finger free. His legs were on the lap of someone sitting seiza style, and he seemed to be cradled from behind in a hug by someone else. Hazily, he saw that both people holding him were Zexion, with a third, presumably the one who’d been calling him, turning off the water and checking the temperature of the water in a tub. His tub. 

“Whaa? How’d I get here?” He voice was light and slurred with sleep.

“I brought you here. You were passed out in the training room. Xigbar and Luxord were arguing about what to do with you. I’d come down for some late night training, but as soon as I saw you, I decided to remove you from those two perverts. You’re safe now.”

Demyx considered this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Zexion did to the other two men that allowed him to take Demyx away.

He settled with an “Oh,” and then, “What _were_ they arguing they’d do with me? And what about the game? Who won?” 

Zexion sniffed. “They each wanted to bring you to their own room to ‘recover.’ As for whatever game you were playing, I have no idea.” 

Demyx hoped that by passing out, he hadn’t automatically conceded. “Damn it,” he muttered gloomily. At Zexion’s sour expression, he explained. “If I outlasted either of those two, they were going to tell me one of their secrets…” 

Zexion snorted. “You could have just asked me. I know plenty of their secrets.”

“What would be the price?” Demyx asked warily, knowing Zexion wouldn’t give out that information for free. 

“I’m sure I’d think of something,” the sly smile on Zexion’s face was terrifying. Demyx tensed, as his instincts kicked up the flight response of his adrenaline. The two Zexions holding him clamped down around him, preventing him from running. 

“Demyx, now is not the time to be running away. Right now, you need to be getting _clean_.” Zexion brandished a washcloth at him. Demyx relaxed, as the familiar sight of yellow duckies on bright blue terry cloth calmed him. Even if it looked utterly ridiculous in Zexion’s hand. 

Demyx sniffed the air, and finally noticed that it seemed like Zexion had found and used one of his scented bubble baths for the tub. The pleasant fragrance of jasmine filled the room. Demyx loved taking baths and spent a good deal of his spare munny on various bath bombs, scented oils and salts, and bubble bath mixtures. It had become such a well known fact (or running joke) that he always received a few bath items for his birthday. (Which was the day he joined the Organization, since he couldn’t remember his real one.)

The idea of taking a bath was very appealing, but it sounded as though Zexion wasn’t interested in letting Demyx take his bath _alone_. Demyx… was not sure how he felt about that. His normal body shyness warred with the openness of the remaining alcohol in his system along with whatever exhibitionist streak he’d unlocked while being played with. 

In that moment, Demyx became acutely aware of his disheveled state. He blushed (again?!) and the Zexion holding his legs rubbed one of his bare feet soothingly in response. He could feel the curve of the lips of the Zexion behind him brushing against his neck, as the clone pushed his pants and briefs down, the clone by his feet reaching up to help. Too soon, Demyx was lying naked in front of the Zexions, and he still didn’t know whether he wanted futilely to cover himself or revel in the Zexions’ unabashed stares. 

Before little Demyx could tip the balance toward covering himself by rising to greet Zexion, the two Zexions holding him worked together and plopped him into his tub. They disappeared immediately after. Zexion hadn’t used much of the bubble bath, so the bubbles were quite a bit sparser than what Demyx was used to, but the tiny pops of the bubbles breaking still caused the Pavlovian response of Demyx lying back, closing his eyes, and relaxing completely. 

He heard the zip and rustle of Zexion removing his coat, as well as what sounded like the placement of a chair, before he felt the washcloth dip into the water to get wet. He felt himself start to fall asleep again, when the touch of someone picking up his arm almost startled him back awake. Almost. The washcloth ran across the seized appendage, and Demyx thought that he could get used to this. He nodded to himself as he agreed with his own thought, in the silly way half asleep people act. 

“Demyx. You need to stay awake. You wouldn’t want to drown in your own bathtub, now would you?” The amused reprimand didn’t do much to rouse the dirty blond. The washcloth moved from his arm to his neck and then to his chest, sliding over the areas that had been streaked with cum and wiping them clean. _That_ roused the blond. Well, it roused little Demyx. Big Demyx was still effectively offline, but somewhere in the back of his mind, a part of him was thinking it was such a _shame_ that the cum was being erased from his body like that. When the washcloth reached his stomach, his body arched, both trying to run away from the tickling sensation and run toward it. He legs fell apart and his mind woke back up. 

“Nngh?” Was the coherent response, as he blinked his eyes open. 

“Back among the living, Demyx?” Was Zexion, _that_ Zexion, teasing him?! Maintaining eye contact with the befuddled blond, Zexion nonchalantly brought the washcloth down over his penis. He tenderly rubbed the cock, making it get bigger.

“Oh, my,” Zexion tried to keep a straight face, but ended up snickering. “This place seems to defy being cleaned. Perhaps a more direct approach would be preferable.” Demyx looked down and realized the bubbles had dispersed from his bath, leaving Zexion’s now washcloth-less hand quite visible, the fingers long, thin, and beautiful, just as said hand wrapped itself around Demyx. 

It wasn’t hard to bring Demyx back to full arousal—he’d been denied his second release by his passing out earlier. What was more worrying was the fact that Demyx didn’t know why Zexion was suddenly doing this to him or worse, how to answer Zexion’s questions.

“So, Demyx, did Xigbar or Luxord touch you anywhere else that needs to be cleaned?”

“Well,” Demyx responded honestly, before realizing he should probably shut up. 

“Well?”

Figuring he was going to have to say _something_ , Demyx said diplomatically, “My mouth.” 

“Oh?”

“Well, both of them kissed me, and Xigbar, er. Er.” Demyx couldn’t bring himself to continue. Zexion created a new clone and silently sent it to retrieve Demyx’s mouthwash and cup from the sink. Demyx was unceremoniously presented with the mouthwash and told, “Swish.” Demyx was actually grateful, as he hated how unclean his mouth had been feeling this whole time. He obediently swished and spit and quietly accepted the “good” and head stroke he received from Zexion’s free hand. 

“Was there anywhere else, Demyx?” He carefully shook his head, keeping his eyes as wide and innocent as he could. There was no way he could tell Zexion about _that_. And apparently Zexion didn’t believe him. 

Zexion gave him a disappointed look, but didn’t press him. Demyx almost felt guilty enough to blurt out the truth. But didn’t. 

Instead, he concentrated on the slow rhythm Zexion was building with his strokes. He let himself slump back against the tub wall and just feel. After the craziness of his night so far, this seemed simple, in a reassuring way. 

He opened his eyes when he felt Zexion gently lift his clean arm. Zexion slid his fingers over the arm until he reached Demyx’s hand. He held the blond’s hand the way a knight holds a lady’s. He brought the hand over to his own crotch, and released the hand, asking surprisingly shyly, “Will you?”

Demyx was touched by the shyness and startled into incriminating himself. “Are you sure? I’m, I’m a pervert too.” He averted his gaze and confessed. “I, uh, liked most of what Xigbar and Luxord did to me. That would make me a pervert, right?” 

He felt the presence of another clone on the other side of the tub, who reached down to continue caressing him, as Zexion used both his hands to recapture Demyx’s and squeezed gently.

“Demyx, that makes you _human_. I’d assumed they’d taken advantage of you, considering how even though you’re a flirty drunk, you’ve always seemed _innocent_. At least to me. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex, or sexual acts, as long as all parties are willing.” 

“Oh.” He suddenly felt much better about himself. “I was willing. Mostly. I’m not sure I would have gone along with it if I hadn’t been drunk, but I did enjoy most of it, and don’t really regret it.” 

“I’m relieved.” 

Tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding drained out of him, and his orgasm shuddered through him without warning. 

At this point he was too tired to blush. He could feel himself slipping away into sleep again and he shook his head to clear it. “Um, do you still want me to touch you? Because I will.” 

Zexion considered Demyx’s state. “How about you come find me for those secrets and I’ll consider you touching me then as payment? For now, let’s get you out of here and into bed.” 

Demyx felt multiple clones lift him out of the tub, as Zexion removed the plug from the bath, letting the water drain away. As he was surrounded by his fluffy towel, he became lost to the world once more.

***

When Demyx next awoke, it was already noon. He inwardly panicked for a second, but after realizing that there was no raging Saïx standing over him and his door wasn’t broken, he’d figured _somebody_ must have gotten him out of his mission today. 

He rolled around the bed, before pulling the covers over him completely and pulling his pillow over his head. Anything to try to distract him from his own embarrassment. 

How shameless he’d been yesterday! He was never, ever drinking again. But… But… Argh! How could he ever face anyone ever again? But if he never faced anyone again, there’d never be a repeat… 

And he so very much wanted a repeat.

And he needed to get his coat back. And his gloves, and his boots, and his socks, and his shirt. They were probably still in the training room…? Were Xigbar and Luxord still in the training room…? Probably not?

He quickly sat up, unbuttoning the pajamas Zexion had put him in. He got dressed in fresh clothes, and decided to head to the training room. 

After that, well, he might have a bunny to visit, a gun collection to view, or secrets to obtain. Or he might do all three. 

  
  
  


*****************************************************

I’m not sure if this will be my last story for a while or not. I have plenty of other ideas which I really want to write, but… Fire Emblem is coming out soon, and I imagine I’m probably going to go on lockdown to play it, and who knows if my creativity will remain afterward? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It’s not uncommon for me to write a bunch of stories, then have my inspiration suddenly die, and go underground for years, before a new fandom inspires me. (The wait for inspiration has generally been anywhere between three to eight years.) I basically forced myself to write the last two chapters of “Teddy,” because I was anxious about the deadline, and I started work on this fic almost immediately. I worked hard to try and get this fic out before FE. I might try to work past my lack of muse to try to get other stories out before the twenty-sixth, but we’ll see how well that works. 

This is another scrubbed story from my two Somebodies idea. Frankly, I think it works better in the context of that story. But oh, well. I’m thinking about actually trying to write some of my ideas for that story down before the end of the month, because, I figure, I should write for me. I’ve already written a Teddy Bear fic, how much more embarrassed can I get?

Wow, is this story long and continuous or is it long and continuous? If you’ve read my other stories, you know I tend to skip from short scene to short scene. That’s just the way my brain works. Trust me, if I could routinely write continuous stories, I’d do it. For me, though, the longer the scene is, the harder it is to write. I suppose I mentally divided the story into the rounds, which made it easier. 

I tried looking up things like how vodka tastes and how long it would take a person to get drunk, etc. I wonder what Google thinks of me now? Anyway, apparently _cheap_ vodka tastes terrible. I got contradicting info on expensive vodka: it either has no taste or tastes like ethanol, so I made the vodka cheap. I wanted Demyx to drink more slowly, in the hope that that would stretch out the time and he’d get drunk in fewer rounds. Still, he probably gets drunk too fast. Then again, I start getting drunk very, very quickly myself on less strong stuff. Then again, I’ve never got as drunk as Demyx before. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

My idea is also that once he stops drinking, he slowly sobers up over time. By the time he releases, he’s mostly sober. Not sure how well I depicted that idea, though. Or exactly how realistic it is.

Haaa. Zexion started to run away from me again. First, he steals a chapter he wasn’t meant to have in “Don’t Piss Off Demyx.” Here, he tried to become quite the controlling, abusive creep. I think I managed to head that off, though. I hope. I had to erase a few paragraphs. I did not enjoy being disturbed by my own writing like that. It’s one thing to intentionally write a character to be creepy. It’s another to be midway through what’s supposed to be a neutral/slightly fluffy scene, and see red flag after red flag. But I think I managed to turn it into a cavity inducing scene instead. ╮(╯▽╰)╭


End file.
